cloud as white and pure as snow. It was Light within light. His wings
as they waved shed dazzling ripples in the spheres through which he
descended, as the glance of God pierces through the universe. At last
I saw the archangel in all his glory. The flower of eternal beauty
that belongs to the angels of the Spirit shone in him. In one hand he
held a green palm branch, in the other a sword of flame: the palm to
bestow on the pardoned soul, the sword to drive back all the hosts of
Hell with one sweep. As he approached, the perfumes of Heaven fell
upon us as dew. In the region where the archangel paused, the air took
the hues of opal, and moved in eddies of which he was the centre. He
paused, looked at the Shade, and said:

"'To-morrow.'

"Then he turned heavenwards once more, spread his wings, and clove
through space as a vessel cuts through the waves, hardly showing her
white sails to the exiles left on some deserted shore.

"The Shade uttered appalling cries, to which the damned responded from
the lowest circle, the deepest in the immensity of suffering, to the
more peaceful zone near the surface on which we were standing. This
worst torment of all had appealed to all the rest. The turmoil was
swelled by the roar of a sea of fire which formed a bass to the
terrific harmony of endless millions of suffering souls.

"Then suddenly the Shade took flight through the doleful city, and
down to its place at the very bottom of Hell; but as suddenly it came
up again, turned, soared through the endless circles in every
direction, as a vulture, confined for the first time in a cage,
exhausts itself in vain efforts. The Shade was free to do this; he